


Black In The Moonlight

by Lady_Of_Paper_7



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Hannibal Lecter Loves Will Graham, Hugging, Kissing, M/M, Murder Husbands, New Beginning, Requited Love, Rescue, Season 3 Finale, Tenderness, going on the run
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:28:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23774611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Of_Paper_7/pseuds/Lady_Of_Paper_7
Summary: What Will wants to say is “This is what I want”, what he wants to say, as he rests his head against Hannibal’s shoulder is, “you are what I’ve always wanted” and what he wants to do is close his eyes and hold onto Hannibal forever.What he does say is; “It’s beautiful”, and what he does do, is wrap his arms around Hannibal. But he does not settle in to be held forever. Instead, he tightens his arms around Hannibal’s middle and, without another word, he lets himself fall back, fall over the edge of the cliff and down and down and down, opens up the doors to every future.---An alternate, rather less heartbreaking version of the series' finale.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 4
Kudos: 81





	Black In The Moonlight

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own either characters, people or backstories. The only thing that I did was come up with semi-creative plots and ideas to put (already established and beloved) characters in and write them down, most of the time to come up with happy endings.

„It really does look black in the moonlight”

Each syllable leads down a winding staircase, towards and always towards an, as of yet, unseen ground. Each word bears an immense potential, will shape whatever is yet to come; one wrong word, one wrong step, a future carelessly tossed away to the rags of history.

There are still more words, more thoughts taking shape behind Will’s eyes as blood runs down his face and chest and hands;

_This is beautiful. You are beautiful, like you always are. Like this, we are beautiful together._

But these staircases Will does not build out loud in the cool night air, which is pungent with the coppery smell of blood at this point; their own and the blood of what, until a moment ago, has been the great red dragon and which is now little more than a pile of pale, oozing flesh at their feet. His and Hannibal’s clothes, skin and hair are still dripping with the red, or rather black from the cuts to Will’s face and collarbone and the bullet wound to Hannibal’s abdomen.

Will even tastes copper on his tongue, between his lips and teeth and he’s sure, Hannibal does too, not that it would bother him – but at this point, does it really bother himself? The thing, the thing he has been refusing to accept for the last years, has been running away from, trying to lock away in the very back of his mind and failing miserably at, is that it doesn’t.

This, all of this, the night air cutting through him, the taste in his mouth and feeling on his skin but most importantly Hannibal next to him, just as far removed from humanity as he is, is beautiful to him.

This, as Hannibal says, “This is all I ever wanted for you” as he pulls Will to his feet and into his arms and Will knows that he’s telling the truth and that there will be no more lies between them, knows, that that this was where he’d always been supposed to stand with Hannibal at his side. This is the moment, he has to decide.

What he wants to say is “This is what _I_ want”, what he wants to say, as he rests his head against Hannibal’s shoulder is, “ _you_ are what I’ve always wanted” and what he wants to do is close his eyes and hold onto Hannibal forever.

What he does say is “It’s beautiful” and what he does do, is wrap his arms around Hannibal. But he does not settle in to be held forever. Instead, he tightens his arms around Hannibal’s middle and, without another word, another moment that would give him the chance to sink into the bliss that was being held by Hannibal, he lets himself fall back, fall over the edge of the cliff and down and down and down, opens up the doors to every future.

Hannibal does not move or struggle as Will sends them over the edge, does not make a sound as they fall, only holds tighter onto Will. A moment before they hit and plunge through the water’s surface Will thinks, he hears him utter something but then the water encloses them in icecold seaarms and knocks the breath out of Will’s chest.

He had closed his eyes when their feet left the rock beneath and now, sinking further and further into the saltwater depth like a stone he does not open them. The throbbing pain in his cheek and shoulder come alive as the seawater washes over them, blooms out of the tiny cuts until it feels like someone had set fire to the wounds and surrounding skin. Will feels almost nauseous from the sensation, but he does not scream or struggle, does not sully the moment.

Because this _is_ the moment, it will be decided. He has given everything into the hands of – the universe, god? It is Hannibal, he his with after all and Hannibal is as close to god as they will ever get. With Hannibal chances and probability seize to matter, always have. Everything is possible and it will have to be Hannibal who decides over their fate, he or the universe and honestly, both is fine to Will. If whatever decides they should make it out of this, it is just as well as if they sink to the bottom of the sea.

So, he presses his face into Hannibal’s chest, clings as tightly to him as he can as they sink further and further down, even as his lungs catch on fire and all he can think is that this is nothing, if only Hannibal stays at his side. Everything will be fine, one way or the other, just as long as he doesn’t leave. Will’s head tips back as his last breath passes through his nose and lips and rises up above them back to the living, human world.

He barely notices, when the water’s surface draws near again, the darkness behind his eyes remaining the same shade of black all the time. His body seems to have grown numb to everything. Only when his head breaks through the surface again, his eyes fly open, and he starts coughing out what feels like mouths and mouths full of seawater that burn the inside of his nose and mouth all the way. Rebirth through fire and water and the sea functions as both.

He hears Hannibal’s voice between his coughs and the waves crashing around them, but he cannot make out anything he’s saying, even as Hannibal starts dragging the two of them through the ice-cold sea. By the time they’ve made it far enough towards the shore to touch the seabed with their feet, Will can barely move and he lets Hannibal, who shows no sign of either slowing down or letting go of Will himself, drag him along further.

“While rebirth”, Hannibal tells him as soon as they’ve stumbled through the last waves in a rough voice, now holding onto him with both hands and leaning in so close, their foreheads touch, “is an occasion to be celebrated, I’m afraid, we will have to postpone that for the moment”

His hands are tight on Will’s forearms and wrists.

“Literal rebirth not to mention”, Will croaks out, letting his eyes slip shut, even before he feels Hannibal’s hands on his shoulders, then his neck and finally his face, his ice-thumbs stroking Will’s ice-cheeks as unfalteringly as if they were in one of their old houses and safe.

“Even so”, he says, almost sadly, just before he gently tilts back Will’s head and brushes his lips against Will’s, only for a second, “let us get to safety first”

“I don’t think, there’s something like that for us anymore”

And it does not matter, the old rules have seized touching them the moment, they left the bluff.

Will’s breath washes hot against Hannibal’s parted lips after the shock of the ice-cold water and Will follows him when he pulls back and kisses him properly, tasting the salt and copper on his lips black-red lips.

“Which is why I’ll be doing the planning for now, my dear Will”, it is harder than ever for Hannibal to pull away from Will now, to only have one arm tight around his waist as they make their way across the beach where sand flows into thin, pale grass, nodding in the night breeze.

“Do you trust me?”, he asks when they reach the outskirts of the beach and he stops walking, eyes searching the darkness in front of them and then locking onto a spot not too far away.

“Have you not been paying attention?”, Will asks, but there is no edge to his words.

He hasn’t stopped shivering since – basically since they fought the dragon and now, standing still and dripping seawater and blood into the dirty sand beneath their feet, the thought just what they, what he has done begins to dawn on him and, for a moment, his whole body feels hot in the ice cold night, and he half expects the water to rise as steam from his clothes and skin, maybe even from Hannibal’s where they are touching and pushing close.

The feeling passes and he keeps on walking, away from what has been up until now. History starts to blur behind them with every step they take.

“Then stay close and try to relax”, Hannibal whispers to him, just as a pale light flashes in front of them.

A female voice calls softly and clearly to them and it takes Will a moment to identify it.

“Chiyoh”, he does not ask Hannibal, says it more to himself than anything else.

“Chiyoh”, Hannibal still agrees as he raises his free hand up from where he’d been pressing down against his side and waves at her with bloody fingers as they close up on the thin, pale figure that seems to have just appeared in the darkness. He does not seem surprised at her presence but with Hannibal it is almost impossible to tell whether something has managed catching him surprise on any day while Chiyoh, at least to Will, seems to exist and work out of the spheres of expectance and surprise anyway, so it feels almost natural that she should be here on this night where Dr. Hannibal Lector and Will Graham have finally vanished off the face of the earth - in one way or another.

Hannibal nods towards her once they stand face to face, barely 2 feet of space left between the pair and the woman who will never stop protecting Hannibal before he addresses her, a mild smile on his lips.

Later, Will will look back at this conversation and wonder, whether he can’t remember any details about their exchange because he’d been too exhausted at that point or because they’d switched languages but he will remember that Chiyoh made both of them sit down and opened a medical practitioner's bag on the grass next to them, pushing her flashlight into Will’s and another one into Hannibal’s hand.

Hannibal moves back when Chiyoh reaches out towards him first and instead jerks his head towards Will, holding his breath as he presses his hand harder against his stomach now that he does not have to worry about keeping his balance anymore. With his free hand he reaches for Will’s hand and, after a brief pause of only touching the very tips of his fingers to base of Will’s thumb, he slowly entwines their fingers once he is sure that Will is not going to pull away and Will squeezes his fingers in return, squeezes them harder when Chiyoh cuts off the remainders of his shirt, cleans his wounds and interjects him with a clear liquid. The smell of the disinfectant lingers in the air even after she finishes stitching up the cuts, and Will’s teeth have almost bitten through his lower lip in an attempt to keep silent. 

“You will keep the scars”, she tells him as she fastens the last bit of bandage around his shoulder and chest, her movements as deft and quick as ever.

Will only opens his eyes when Hannibal shifts at his side to give Chiyoh easier access and he too turns to hold the flashlight in place as she sets to work on his injuries.

“You were lucky”, she tells Hannibal, once she has repacked her leather bag and gotten to her feet, “he barely grazed you”

She pauses for a moment, looking down at the pair that looks rather the worse for wear but still somehow manages to struggle back to their feet. Her face is set in stone as she adds, “but when are you not lucky?”

“Seldom”, is all Hannibal replies as they start walking again, slower than before. They would have to have another look at their injuries in proper light, Chiyoh’s handywork notwithstanding.

They don’t walk far but in Will’s mind they keep going for ages and he keeps wondering, how the night has not ended three times over yet, as they stumble on behind the near-silent steps of Hannibal’s protector, but he doesn’t open his mouth except to pant as silently as he can. Their hands remain interlaced as they walk and Will is grateful for that, not only because even the thought of letting go and not touch Hannibal in anyway almost scares him at this point - because Hannibal has been the only constant in his life for a long time before this and losing him would actually upset this new world they are making together with every step they take - but also because this form of connection is both undeniable in its meaning and does not bring Hannibal in a position where he would support Will’s weight as they walked whilst putting more strain on himself. Because Hannibal is as chivalrous as he is an idiot.

Hannibal has yet to show any real sign of discomfort, apart from moving more stiffly and carefully than usual, although, he still must be in pain, even with the painkillers; Will has to fight his own body’s protests with every step he takes. Once they reach an empty street, Chiyoh takes one look at them, at their pale faces and ruined attire and she tells them to wait here until she comes back.

Only when the glow of her flashlight vanishes in the darkness, does Will permit his legs to give out and slumps down at the edge of the road, a moment later Hannibal joins him on the ground. Will hears the click of Chiyoh’s bag being opened again and a moment later a thin blanket settles around his shoulders with a soft rustle and he cannot help himself but smile in the darkness, as he lifts one corner of the crinkly fabric and tugs on it until it covers Hannibal’s shoulders as well. He lets his healthy arm stay wrapped around Hannibal, who pushes close beneath the flimsy thermal blanket. His arms settle around Will’s waist and Will’s head comes to a rest against his shoulder. Eventually, his breathing calms down and he curls into Hannibal. The blanket helps but his own body never really stops trembling, even within Hannibal’s arms and soon, the doctor too tightens his hold around him, buries his face in Will’s hair and breaths in his smell; the sharp tang of alcohol, the salt of the sea, last fleeting remainder of copper and beneath all of that Will’s own scent.

Breaking the silence feels almost sacrilegious but eventually, Will has to ask, has to know whether this was Hannibal’s design or the closest thing that comes to fate because for some reason, it matters that Hannibal had not engineered this, that they were moving along this new road as equals; “Did you call her?”

“I did not”

Will’s hair has almost dried at this point and it stirs the tiniest bit with every word Hannibal utters above his head.

“Did you plan this?”

“I merely hoped for us to live past Francis and for you to not shrink away from the consequences”

“I’m done shrinking away”

“I know” and Hannibal does know, just as Will knows that he does, “I have to admit though, that this will prove to be easier than what I would have attempted in order to get us to safety”, Hannibal cranes his neck until his can kiss Will’s temple, just above the thick, white bandage that cover’s half of Will’s jowl, “which would have involved a rather longer hike through the undergrowth and a longer wait for medical attention, I’m afraid”

“Lucky, Lucky Hannibal”, Will whispers against his chest.

“So it seems”

Above them, countless stars light up the ink blue night sky and wisps of black clouds keep passing by the full moon. The night has washed all colours from the world, until yellow headlights bring them back.

By the time, the pair has climbed back to their feet, a light blue minivan that is so utterly covered in mud and dust, that the lines of the doors almost vanish beneath their dirt patina has come to a hold in front of them. The inside of the car is warm and dry and honestly feels like heaven after the eternity of damp coldness outside. By the time, the door slides in place behind them, Chiyoh has started the car and driven off, glancing at the review mirror from time to time. Every time Will meets her gaze in the mirror, he fights the urge to shiver, but not from the cold.

She has changed into a pale pink dress, a pair of thin, golden glasses is perched high on her nose and above all of this, short brown curls bounce slightly with every movement she makes. Her pink lips have settled into the easy smile ever present on the face of a person who has lived a good life and has nothing to fear. It’s rather disconcerting

He and Hannibal change as well as they drive down the empty streets, put on jeans that fit well enough, shirts whose print is so faded, it’s almost impossible to make out what it originally read and knitted hats that fit so loosely, they cover up a good part of the scratches and bruises that are becoming more and more visible beneath the car’s weak interior light.

Once their old clothes are packed away in the plastic bag that contained their new attire, Will lets himself collapse against Hannibal and closes his eyes, just as they cross onto a freeway. Hannibal rests his chin against the crown of Will’s head and watches the street signs and lanterns fly past the car windows as they drive towards a new morning, a new beginning, a new life.

**Author's Note:**

> You will have noticed, that the injuries both of them took away from their fight with the "Great Red Dragon" were a lot more severe in the TV-series and the finale script - but since I already changed the ending the plunge they took off that bluff, I figured, I could take the liberty to change the severeness of their wounds as well and make this version of events just a tiny bit more believable; not that believability is what we are here for.
> 
> I might add a second chapter at some point, which will be probably be a lot sweeter, if my track record up to this point is anything to go by.
> 
> Anyway, thank you very much for reading and I'd love to know, what you think of this.
> 
> Lots of love <3.


End file.
